From Winless to Ranked

Let’s not predict too much for the Washington Huskies, who, after all, went 0-12 last year and only recently snapped a 15-game losing streak. But thanks to the information called from here and here, we can accurately say they have already achieved something remarkably rare.

UW, 24th this week in the Associated Press poll, is only the second team in the survey’s 74-year history to earn a ranking one season after losing all its games. South Carolina, 0-11 in 1999 but back in the survey on Sept. 24, 2000, was the first. The Gamecocks entered the poll at 23rd after a 4-0 start to their 2000 season. They were ultimately ranked for eight weeks that year, climbing to 17th at one point and finishing at 19th with an 8-4 record.

Two other teams have been winless in one season and ranked in the next. Florida, 0-10-1 in 1979, worked its way into the AP ratings on Sept. 29, 1980 after winning its first three games of that campaign en route to an 8-4 record. Navy, 0-8-1 in 1948, stood 2-1 and 18th in the AP on Oct. 2, 1949, but the Midshipmen sank to a 3-5-1 record for the year.

Washington got its national status back with a 16-13, last-minute win over USC on Sept. 19. The Trojans were ranked third at the time.

In all, 124 teams have had the unwanted opportunity to earn an AP ranking in the season immediately following a winless year. Only four have pulled it off. For most of the rest, the story has been predictably and lamentably familiar.

The first AP rankings came out in 1936, and Cornell began that year as the only winless team returning to the game. The Big Red went from 0-6-1 in 1935 to 3-5 in ’36. Better but not quite enough to earn the respect of the panel.

Of Washington’s 123 predecessors, 13 repeated their winless performances and 25 managed only one victory. Eleven posted winning records in The Year After.

Three of the 123 teams didn’t even come back for the following season, but in each case, the hiatus coincided with wartime.

Collectively, those returning from winless seasons have gone 317-902-29 (.266) in the next season.

So for now, the Huskies are ahead of the game.

Brian Roberts

It's easy to be ignored when you're on a last-place team, but at some point, baseball fans need to figure out that Brian Roberts is having a tremendous season.
He's making a serious run at MLB's single-season record for doubles by a second baseman, held since 1936 by Charlie Gehringer (61). Roberts delivered his 47th two-bagger of 2009 in the first inning of today's game at Chicago.
With more than a month left in the season, Roberts is already one of only eight players since 1901 to author 14 or more homers, 47 or more doubles and 25 or more steals. (This research done through http://www.baseballreference.com/)

From the start of the 2004 season through Saturday's games, Roberts is one of only three players with 200 or more steals and 60 or more homers.

I know the Orioles aren't good. I have come to accept this again. But this isn't the second baseman's fault.

Of Erin Andrews and Big Ben

I've been amused by blogs that decry the assault on Erin Andrews' privacy while linking to the video or otherwise giving their readers a good hint on where to find it. Strikes me as disingenuous at best. (I'm not going to mention those blogs for the same reason I'm not helping anybody find the video.)

As shocking as the peeping incident is the comment from another female sports journalist, who shall also remain nameless but whose opinion confounds me. She advised Andrews to "stop playing to the frat-boy crowd" or words to that effect.
"Blame The Victim" sounds like a game for Howard Stern or Don Imus. How exactly has Andrews encouraged or otherwise failed to discourage the mindset that placed a camera in her hotel room?
Has she been spotted and photographed at parties with drinks in hand? Not that I'm aware of. (And that, by the way, is amazing. In an era of cell-phone cameras with YouTube applications, celebrities have two choices: live a cloistered life or wind up in a potentially misleading photo on the Web.)
Has she done or said anything sexually suggestive while discussing the nuances of the match-up zone?

This whole story is creepy, but you don't need me to tell you that.

Another matter has gotten my attention. When the Ben Roethlisberger story broke, I was surprised to see that an Associated Press story named the complainant. It's not a criminal matter, but it seemed to me -- and it still does -- that such disclosure violates a general journalistic policy. Sure enough, the AP stories filed Tuesday and Wednesday do not name the woman.
I'm conflicted about this entire issue. But consistency is important, and it appears that many outlets fell for the trick in the press release issued by Big Ben's attorney, which named the alleged victim in a quote. Perhaps lacking the time to make editing choices on deadline, many printed the quote in its entirety, thereby using the woman's name.

I'm back

I never promised I'd do this daily. That was the hope, of course. But I got distracted.

Anyway, Michael Vick's federal sentence ended today. He's now eligible to petition the government of the NFL for a redress of grievances.
Like most Americans, I think Vick has done his time and should be reinstated, but I break from Vick's cadre of apologists in one respect: I don't necessarily think his sentence was excessive.
Michael Vick was not sentenced to 23 months in the federal system for fighting -- or even for killing -- dogs. He was sentenced to 23 months for fighting and killing dogs and for lying about it.
That combo is critical.

Remember the timeline: On Aug. 24, 2007, he entered the guilty plea and held a press conference in which he vowed to change his ways. While awaiting sentencing, he lied to investigators and failed a drug test.
He was essentially thumbing his nose at the system.
What's a judge to do in that circumstance? Ignore it? If so, he or she is essentially telling the investigators that their work has no meaning.
Henry Hudson simply had to go for the high end of the scale at that point.

Now the sentence has expired. NFL majordomo Roger Goodell can still look like the law-and-order guy and let Vick play without further restriction. Vick has done his "extra" time. He imposed it on himself.

Notre Dame and Obama

So there's all this angst about President Obama's acceptance of an honorary degree at the University of Notre Dame. He's pro-choice. The university is, well, Catholic. A few dozen students protested and a few thousand clerics expressed their outrage.

But here's my question: Where were the wolves in 1998, when the university's graduation speaker was Joseph Kernan, lieutenant governor of Indiana and a pro-choice guy? By 2004, Kernan had become the state's first Catholic governor, but even his own high school disowned him at graduation time because of his opinions on the issue.

The inconsistency is intriguing if nothing else. I'll have more later.

Longoria Trying To Hack RBI Record

If you're a baseball fan, you have figured out by now that Evan Longoria has nothing to do with Eva Longoria. She models. He swings. (There are, of course, other differences.)

And as long as the Tampa Bay Rays' third baseman keeps driving in runs at an absurd pace, we'll hear the name of Hack Wilson more and more often. Wilson, whose total of 191 RBI in 1930 is the seventh-oldest major record in baseball history, is the Hall of Famer that nobody knows. By making a charge at Wilson's number, Longoria may soon change that.

The second-year big leaguer is on track to finish the year with more than 200 RBI. And while you can't really expect that to happen, he's at least got a shot to challenge a standard that has been essentially forgotten.

So who is this guy?
Lewis Robert Wilson was a really amazing player. He was a 5-foot-6 power hitter, an apparent oxymoron. According to the magnificent resource that is baseballreference.com, only two players shorter than 5-8 have hit even 100 career homers. Wilson authored 244.
He drove in 109 or more runs in six seasons. Only one other man of his height has managed more than 88. (Joe Sewell had years of 92, 93, 98, 106 and 109).

Why don't we know all this already?

• Competition. Babe Ruth was among Wilson's contemporaries. Ruth hit 59 dingers in 1921 and 60 in 1927, which is why Wilson's total of 56 in that incredible 1930 season tends to get ignored.
• Bad luck. Baseball created Most Valuable Player voting in 1911, but in 1930, the ballotting was not conducted for reasons I haven't yet figured out. So Wilson's year went unrewarded.
• Time. Wilson's career and life were cut short by alcoholism. He made the Majors at age 23, played his last game at 34 and was dead at 48. He didn't survive to enjoy "Living Legend" status. He was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame 31 years after his death. Most of those who attended the ceremonies were more interested in the enshrinement of another guy. His name was Willie Mays.
• Timing. Wilson drove in 123 runs in 1932, but by the following year, he was in decline. It was in that 1933 season that baseball played its first All-Star Game. Wilson wasn't a viable candidate.

Longoria has some things going for him in addition to his talent. One is the identity of his team, which, while the defending American League champion, doesn't have the same hounding media contingent known to New York, Boston and Chicago. Another is the difficulty pitchers will have in avoiding Longoria, who is followed in the batting order by Carlos Pena, who leads the Majors in homers with 13 these days.

This could be an interesting story.

Where Drug Testing Can't Be Optional

The most interesting drug-related development of the past week wasn't in baseball; it came from NASCAR and was discussed in this nice piece of reporting by ESPN's David Newton.

While preaching the virtues of its policy, NASCAR tests only four to eight of its competitors weekly. In other words, the laws of probability suggest the unluckiest of drivers will probably be tested before eight of 38 starts a year.

That's not good enough. If there's a sport that desperately needs weekly, universal screening, it's the one in which 43 cars, each of which weighs 3,400 pounds, go around high-banked turns at 150 mph.

If a baseball player does steroids, what's the worst that can reasonably happen? He breaks the most hallowed record in sports and we're left to wonder if the achievement is legitimate. We lament the benefits of cheating.

If a NASCAR driver is under the influence of alcohol or drugs, the worst possible outcome is rather obvious, and it's more serious than the stuff that fuels barroom arguments over home run kings. NASCAR has made its competitions safer this decade, and that's important. But that shouldn't facilitate complacency.

Sure, you're talking about a considerable increase in the cost of drug testing, but the organization can handle it. If a screening that includes steroids and street drugs runs $300 apiece -- a reasonable estimate -- then NASCAR would wind up spending about $500,000 a year if it tests every driver before every race. That's about the amount of cash that Elliott Sadler pocketed for finishing fifth at this year's Daytona 500.